


Lost in the In-Between

by jayhood



Category: Batman - All Media Types, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: All Caste (DCU), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fae, Case Fic, Multi, STAY Server Exchange
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayhood/pseuds/jayhood
Summary: A tale about a girl without a name and a bird-entrepreneur. Of a sort.
Relationships: Harry Dresden/Johnny Marcone, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd
Comments: 18
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [River9Noble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/River9Noble/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a short, cute, (hopefully) funny execution of a Jason&Stephanie gift exchange prompt inspired by this post: https://draconym.tumblr.com/post/625714803464355840  
> It... changed, in the process.  
> Hope you will still like it!

Attractive young women waiting for Harry in his office were never a good thing. For one, cases that started like this ended with Harry getting chased by something big, toothy, and other-worldly. Or on his knees with Warden trying to hack his head off. Both, in that one particular case, which brought him together with another regular headache of Harry’s: Gentleman Johnny Marcone. 

For another, he was sure he locked his door when he went to get lunch (taco from the truck on the corner). 

“Hi,” the young woman smiled brilliantly, standing up and giving him a hand to shake. Her head was barely reaching the height of his shoulders, and she didn’t feel like another magic user, so he reached back - with caution, of course. “I called this morning?..”

Yes. He did get a call earlier in the day. Something relating to… finding a pet? He tried to act like he didn’t utterly forget about the meeting.

“Of course! Miss…” he tried to look over to the big yellow post-it stuck to the table surface. He was sure he wrote the name there, but either he needed to get his eyesight checked, or to get a writing machine, maybe, because he couldn’t figure out his own penmanship at all.

She breathed in, her chest expanding like she was bracing herself before a dive.

“...,” she said, corners of her mouth turning down.

Well, she told her name, presumably. Harry only heard a high-pitched noise, kind of like a bird’s tweet. Which - people usually didn’t do that. He snatched his hand away. But the woman - a girl, really, barely a few years older than Molly - expected that kind of reaction. Her face turned even more serious and grim, but not surprised.

“Is there anything else I could call you?” Harry asked carefully. 

“I can tell you,” she said. “But then I would have to kill you.”

Harry very carefully placed his hand in his duster pocket, where his blast rode was. The girl shook her blonde curls.

“Jeez, I was joking! I just meant that no, there aren’t any other names I can still use right now. There are no names at all.”

“And that’s what you need help with?..” he guessed.

“I told you, I just need your help with catching a bird. I will take care of everything else.”

Frankly, Harry didn’t see how catching a bird would be beneficial to her situation. Whatever the situation actually was. Someone took her name, that much was obvious, and there were a few entities that traded in such things. But none of them was known of having birds you could take hostage, or whatever her plan was.

But, as long as she was paying, it wasn’t really Harry’s position to second-guess the client’s plans. Assuming they won’t get her killed. And so far Harry didn’t see how.

“To catch a bird, huh,” he said out loud, sitting down behind his desk and taking out the map of Chicago, his scrying crystal and an ash-tray. “There’s a spell for finding pets and other small animals. Do you have something of theirs?”

The girl hesitated before going to her bag.

“Not quite,” she said, taking out a tablet. Before Harry even could tell her what a bad idea it was to use anything electronic in the presence of a wizard, she pushed a button. 

There was already a map open there, and a big green pulsing dot in the middle of downtown. 

“See, I already caught him once,” the girl said. “I ringed his leg and let him go. And the ring was made from smelted iron scraps that were, surprise-surprise, radioactive. So it’s not really hard to track him down.”

She pushed the screen closer to Harry.

“No, don’t!..” he said, but it was too late.

The green dot blinked once, twice, before the whole screen got dark,

The young woman frowned, pushed a button once, twice, but it was too late.

“Computers and magic don’t mix,” Harry said with an ounce of regret. 

She looked at him with her huge blue eyes. It was all he could do not to get trapped into a Soulgaze with her. It was not at all pleasant to your average human (for them, anyway; Harry’s soul was a scary dark place). He didn’t want to chance it with someone without a name.

She took the loss in stride.

“Okay,” she said. “I guess I need your mojo to find him, now. But you shortened out my tablet, I’m not paying extra for that.”

At this point, Harry was just happy she didn’t try to make  _ him  _ pay for it.

“Okay,” he was quick to agree. “Did you notice the last location he was pinged at?”

She did. And it was a huge office building Harry knew all too well, unfortunately.

“Okay,” he sighed, taking the crystal and a compass with him. “I will take you there, and maybe we can even make it inside. But you’re buying coffee, and on the way there you better fess up what would your bird be doing at the resident crime lord’s office.”

She inclined her head.

“That depends,” she said. “On whether he targets kids.”

Just what kind of bird was that?

“Tell me in the car.”

Because if it flew away, without the fancy tracking device of hers, that was going to be much harder to track him down.

When Harry led her out onto the street and to his Bug, he was preparing for disparaging comments that everyone of his acquaintance was used to make when they saw the car.

The girl, seeing half black, half purple vehicle, smiled genuinely and said:

“I like it!”

And Harry, despite being older than her for at least ten years and, not to mention, taken, fell in love with her a little.

The feeling quickly dissolved as they turned down the street and she started her tale.

“So,” she said. “I’m from Gotham. You heard about it?”

“Uh,” Harry looked over at her. “It’s in New Jersey?”

“Oh. Well, it is, but I thought you being a wizard and all, and Gotham being the literal hell... Okay, maybe not literal, but, you know. Pretty freaky shit happens there. I didn’t realize even how much weird it gets before I had to leave. And not that the place I was at is any better, but at least it doesn’t pretend, you know? Like, time doesn’t work there, and there are like dozen doors that lead... Wherever. You chill there, and you know it’s magic, and you know to expect the unexpected.”

Sticks and stones. Had this girl lived in Never-Never? Harry almost missed a turn, gawking at her.

“Not so much with Gotham. At the first glance, we’re a regular city. You know, schools, hospitals, shops and farmer markets. Organized crime. And, you know, super-villains and vigilantes, but every big city has at least one, nowadays, right?”

Harry was pretty sure that no, Chicago didn’t. Unless you counted Marcone as a villain and him, a hero, and yeah... Maybe even half a year before he would be laughing at you for the suggestion but also would have been secretly flattered... But things changed.

Fortunately, the girl didn’t notice him being too quiet on that front.

“And that’s how I grew up, thinking all that stuff what happens, it’s normal. Sure, in my neighborhood kids would go missing sometimes, especially street kids, but that’s how streets are, you know? Still. My mom, she was maybe not the most attentive mother on the planet. She had her own stuff to deal with, even when dad was in jail and didn’t bother us. And she worried. Especially after that huge missing person case: a son of a billionaire who lived in Gotham, he ran away or was kidnapped or something. Nobody knows, still. I just... I remember all those milk packages with his face on them,” she shudders. “He was only one year older than me. So my mom, she freaked. Especially with the rumors that he was hanging out at our neighborhood when he was taken. And she signed me up for Girl Scouts, just to make sure I won’t be just roaming the streets alone. And so I didn’t. It was fun, honest. I made some friends that way and learned a lot of cool stuff, like how to tie knots, how to find water and clean it properly, or how to make fire, how to escape zip ties, you know. Useful stuff like that.”

Harry sneaked a look. It didn’t sound as anything those girls selling cookies would be learning, but he wasn’t even in Boy Scouts, so what could he know? She didn’t seem like she was having him on.

“And sometimes, we would go camping. Well,” she paused, trying to find words. “Not camping. There were woods around Gotham, and caves, and hills, and we would explore that. But we never stay the night. Always made sure to go there with the first light and leave before dark. But it was still fun. We would fish, and gather berries, though never mushrooms, and cook over the camp fire. We would also bird-watch. And... That’s how I met him for the first time.”

She was quiet for a bit, and that was just as well. Harry parked the car near the cart where he always bought his coffee when he could afford it. She paid for them both, and after a minute where they were just sitting there and drinking their lattes (Harry usually would go for plain black coffee but she assured him he will like it and, well, she was right). Finally, Harry prodded her a little.

“So, is it some kind of rare bird? A...” Honestly, he didn’t know names of regular birds, much less which of them were rare. He fished in his memory, desperate. “Bald eagle?”

“No,” the girl answered simply, if a little sadly. “It was just a robin, and Gotham always had a lot of those. No, it didn’t matter what kind of bird he was, just how it sang. You know, it was the last day I was going to be allowed in Girl Scouts. My father was getting his parole, and I knew he wouldn’t won’t me doing anything except for school and homework and doing chores. I was sad, and scared, and I couldn’t even tell my friends, because I never told them about my father. I was afraid they would judge me. But they kept asking, and so I pretended to find a pretty bird and follow it, just to escape. But when I left the camp, I really heard it. The bird song. It seemed like everything I was feeling, he knew and understood. So I followed it. I went through the forest, up to the clearing. It was so quiet there, I couldn’t hear anything except the song and my own movements. Strange, that, in the forest. There’s always so much noise - wind in the leaves, small animals, just woods themselves, creaking like they’re alive and breathing, you know? And there was nothing like that here. Only a big green field with a ring of biggest mushrooms I’ve ever seen. And a bird, with red breasts and a red head, sitting there. I was curious. I stepped closer. It stopped singing, and it’s like I woke up from a dream. I dried my tears and looked around. I remember thinking, well, ...,” There was that tweeting sound again, but this time she didn’t notice she was doing that. Maybe she wasn’t, not really. It was just Harry hearing it like this. “How did you get here? And how would you get back? And the bird, he hopped up, but didn’t fly away, like I was expecting. He landed on my shoulder, like he wasn’t scared at all. He started chirping again, but this time it wasn’t sad. It was... Hopeful. And when he flew away, he did so to the nearest branch. He waited for me to come closer and even chirped impatiently when I took to long. And when I got closer, he flew to another tree, and then to another, and then, maybe ten minutes, maybe half an hour, but I was back in camp. And he was singing on the way there, and I was smiling now when my friends saw me again. And...”

She hesitated, fingers playing with the coffee lid.

“And I didn’t want him to leave me. I wanted at least something good to stay in my life.”

“So you, what, captured it? Caged?”

“No, I ringed it,” she said gloomily, and explained. “We all had a ring made, to put on a bird we wanted to track. I didn’t know it was iron, I didn’t know it was radioactive iron, even. The bird didn’t like it much, but I thought it’s just until he gets used to it. I put the ring on him, and the ring contained my name, because I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t mix my bird with any other. But...”

Harry had an inclination to where this was going.

“But that wasn’t a regular bird, and you gave away your name. And that’s how you lost it?”

She shook her head.

“No, that’s only how he found it out, and how, later, he was able to find me. But I was still using it, until...”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“I got into something. Doesn’t matter what, now. But it ended with me in chains, swinging from a ceiling in a abandoned warehouse. You remember how I told you Gotham has organized crime issues? And supervillains? Well, Black Mask was the two rolled in one.”

“Hang on,” Harry felt like he was missing something. “How long ago that was? How old are you? How old you  _ were _ ?”

“You really think it would matter to a scumbag who sells drugs and kills people for a living?”

Yes, Harry didn’t say. He had really thought so. But, he realized, who does he know from crime bosses? Only Marcone and it seemed like he was an outlier and shouldn’t be counted.

“Anyway,” she got up from where they were sitting on the curb and shot her coffee cup, now empty, into the garbage bin.

It was impressive, because there were twenty feet between them and a lot of harried-looking Chicagoans.

“We better get going. He could fly away at any minute. That’s how I lost him in Gotham, too. One minute, he’s there, the next, when I arrive, I find only the rubble, and, according to the tracking device, he is heading West with the speed forty miles per hour.“

“About that,” Harry started his car. He intended to reassure the girl, because if some kind of magic creature got on Marcone’s turf, he was fairly certain Gard would take care of it, or at least detain it.

But... Nothing she told him so far even hinted at who the bird was. If only he could drop by his house and consult with Bob, his magical skull that contained an old Spirit of Knowledge. But Bob was also getting paid in porn and romance novels, and he would certainly ask about Harry’s client. And, keeping in mind her age, Harry wasn’t comfortable talking about her with him.

Not to mention, it would be hard to explain the pit stop, if Harry didn’t also tell her about Bob, and he preferred to keep him secret. Fewer maniacs coming after him that way. Don’t get him wrong, Harry still had a fair share of those, it just he got them for his own merit, so to speak. And not because he had a powerful being under his command, kind of.

With that, his thoughts turned to the girl and what did she have, or what did she do, to get someone called Black Mask after her. Not that it would have been her fault - just, was there more to her than met the eye? Except the obvious: not having a name, and spending some time in a fairy realm and keeping her sanity and her humanity intact.

“What do you plan to do when we catch him? How do you plan to get him to give your name back?” He finished his question differently.

She shrugged.

“I will make him another deal.”

Harry was grateful he finished his coffee already. As it was, the air he breathed in ended up going the wrong way, and he coughed for a good minute. The girl even patted him on the back.

“That,” he said when he regained control over his throat. “Is a horrible idea. Is that how you lost it? You  _ traded it away? _ “

“I didn’t have a lot of options, okay! I was dying. Nobody was coming for me, or so I thought. And even as now I know I was wrong, they wouldn’t have got to me on time. You ever had someone take a drill to your stomach? That was what Black Mask was planning. But even then, I didn’t ask for the bird’s help, I didn’t call him, I didn’t even think it was an option. It was Black Mask. He called me Robin, because...” She hesitated. “Because he didn’t know my name and needed to call me something. Anyway. He called that name three times, and that’s when my bird appeared. Black Mask didn’t see it, but I did. He was talking to me, in my head. I thought it was a hallucination. Something my brain cooked up to escape the pain and fear.”

Harry knew the feeling. He shuddered, recalling Denarii. If this bird entity was on the same level as them, if it had similar goals... Maybe Gard wouldn’t be enough to contain it after all. He pressed the gas.

“I heard a boy’s voice. Young, maybe my age. He offered to fly me away, to a place we both knew was safe. He told me a name of a woman that would take care of me, and help with my wounds, and help me to leave Gotham. I remember thinking, no way this is real. How a bird would know Leslie? She practically lived in her clinic. And the bird lived in the woods, right? No way the two had met. But he said,  _ don’t worry about it, just promise me you won’t return here, because it’s too dangerous. And I promise to take care of Black Mask for you _ . I promised him. And then I lost consciousness and woke up at Leslie’s clinic. She patched me up as best as she could. But I wasn’t out of the woods, not yet. Black Mask was still alive. And looking for me. And we had to leave, because there wasn’t anyone who could protect me from him. No one willing to, anyway. I didn’t know what happened, I thought... I thought - a friend found me, and brought me here, a friend who was pissed off at me, who wouldn’t help me further. And Leslie confirmed that the friend came by, and that he was angry at her, because she told our friend she couldn’t save me, that I was dead. She thought she was protecting me, or she was trying to get back at him for not doing the same, maybe both. Doesn’t matter. I figured it was all there is to it, and so when she offered to snuggle me out of country, I agreed. I thought the bird was... Just a dream, you know? But then, the place she took me to...”

“Was the place with many doors and no time at all?”

“Yeah. She didn’t stay there, just dropped me off. Didn’t explain how she knew where to find it. And people she left me with acted as though I was supposed to know.”

“People?” Harry clarified.

  


“Yeah, who else? No talking animals there, that’s for sure. Well. There was a girl who could turn into smoke, and fly, and be invisible...”

Harry stiffed a groan. Fairies, but a court he never heard of. Not Winter or Summer, and not any Wyldfae of his knowledge either.

“And I lived with them and trained with them for two years. My wounds healed. My mind and soul, too. But... I couldn’t stay forever, you know?”

“And they let you go,” Harry was a little dubious but, well.

She was right here, after all.

“Yeah?”

“But nobody could remember you. Even your friends or your mom or Leslie.”

“Yeah...”

“And when you tried to remind them, when you try to tell anyone your name, they hear only bird’s voice?”

“Exactly.”

Harry scratched his head.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “You breached the terms of your deal, and that’s bad, sure. But your bird didn’t exactly hold its end fully, did it? You said so yourself. Even as you were brought to safety, Black Mask was still roaming the streets.”

“Yes but... Not for long. Part of the reason I decided to come back was, I found out Black Mask living out his last days. It took the bird some time, maybe because he doesn’t exactly have hands to hold a gun.”

“What, he was shot?”

That didn’t exactly scream “fae” to Harry.

The girl shook her head, though.

“His operations were dismantled, he killed all his leitenants himself, but he died in a knife fight with a rival crime boss.”

“And you think, what, it’s your bird’s doing?”

Harry’s voice could be a tad less skeptical, it seemed, because the girl scoffed.

“I know how it sounds. But get this: this rival drug lord? That friend I mentioned, he saw them fighting, and he even has a footage of the tail end of the fight. The rival was wounded, critically so, at the same moment he ended Black Mask’s life. But when my friend got there? There was only one body, and a red helmet.”

“Back up, a helmet?” Harry felt like he lost the plot somewhere in the middle of all... This. If it was a novel, he would have put it back on the rack.

But this was a real life and here was a paying customer.

She rolled her eyes.

“It’s Gotham. Every two-bit criminal has a shtick. A costume and a cute nickname.”

“Your father, too?” Harry said, not thinking.

Girl got quiet.

“Yeah,” she said in the end. “He called himself Cluemaster. That’s why I was Spoiler.”

“Hey,” Harry elbowed her. “You said your name and didn’t tweet!”

“That’s because it’s not my name, anymore. Wasn’t even when I left. I think I outgrew it, just like I outgrew my father. And then he died. And then I became...” She squeezed her eyes again. “Doesn’t matter. That’s not who I am anymore, and that’s not who I want to be.”

“Who do you want to be? Can you be anyone else?”

She made a ‘wait here’ gesture, then smiled and waved.

“Hi, my name is Sarah Green!”

Then she got serious again.

“So I  _ can _ get a new name. But it won’t be  _ mine _ , you get it?”

Harry sighed. Names were serious business. He could see how you could want to get it back. Even if without it and without all the past weighing you down, you can be anything in the world. Some people, like Marcone, made it work for them. They carved a new name for themselves, and it became theirs. But Harry was pretty sure that it also changed them, irreparably so. And it was fine if who you were before wasn’t something worth keeping, at least in your own eyes.

But, even without a Soulgaze, he knew it wasn’t the same for the girl.

He blinked, noticing that somehow, they almost arrived at the place they were going to.

“Okay,” he said. “I hate to hurry you up, but we almost there. So. The helmet was there, the rival crime boss wasn’t, and that made you think it was your bird’s doing?”

“It wasn’t just that. It’s... I told you about me tracking the bird for the first time, right? A few days ago? And I found only the rubble? Well, not only the rubble. I meant I didn’t find the bird there. But my friend was there. And... He got offered a deal, too.”

“Did he trade his name, too? You keep not mentioning it.”

The girl laughed shortly.

“No, just... I don’t know which one to use. Let’s call him... Let’s call him Bat.”

Harry looked at her. There was something familiar about it. He is pretty sure he heard something on the news, but... He didn’t really keep up with what was going in the mortals’ world if it wasn’t going on in his city.

“A bird and a bat, huh,” he ended up saying.

“I mean, not a literal bat. Just, Bat. Bat-man?” She looked at him, as though she was expecting some kind of reaction. Harry motioned at her to continue while he was busy with finding a space to park.

It would be much easier to do in downtown Chicago in the middle of a work day if he agreed to have an assigned parking spot in Marcone’s office building lot. But that’s a level of commitment he wasn’t comfortable with, yet.

“He didn’t trade his name, no. He was offered a different deal. He had to kill a very bad man, a criminal, someone who was responsible for his son’s disappearance. If he did that, he would have gotten his son back.”

Harry raised his brows.

“What’s the catch? Did he have to do it where a cop was watching or something?”

“No, just... Kill him. Isn’t it bad enough?”

Harry parked the car and took his keys out of ingnition. That was a heavy question. He knew that Marcone wouldn’t say so. He wasn’t sure himself. He... He killed monsters before and never given it a second thought. And he had gotten people killed, and it was never fun, even if he didn’t like them. And... Justin. He killed Justin, with magic, even, which was what got him under the Doom of Damocles in the first place and a lot of shitty situations after. But he did it to save himself, and maybe Elaine.

But it didn’t work for her. She was still gone.

Would have he killed Justin a second time, now, if that meant he could have her back? Yes. Even if he moved on, she still deserved it. To have a life of her own.

But nobody was offering a deal like that to him, and that’s just as well. Just look at his new client. Making deals never worked out in your favor, in the end. Who knew, maybe if she only waited, her friend would have rescued her after all. She wouldn’t have to leave, she wouldn’t have to fake her death, she wouldn’t have lost her whole life.

Yeah. Maybe. She would still get tortured with what was that? A power drill?

“Did your friend agree?” He asked in the end.

“No. He chose to save him. And that’s exactly what I will offer to the bird. If he wants Joker dead so badly, I will do it for him, and he will give me my name back.”

“Uh,” Harry said, very intelligently. “Weren’t you just saying that killing is bad?”

She grimaced.

“Joker isn’t exactly alive, either. The group I was with, remember I told you about them? They all were training exactly for this purpose. Sometimes, and I know this could be a lot to take in, please keep an open mind. Sometimes, beings from another world, or dimension, or whatever you want to call it, they cross over to ours.”

Harry gasped and immediately felt bad about it. She was so nervous explaining this! Too bad Harry knew exactly about demons, and ghosts, and ghouls, and everything else, you name it.

“And sometimes they posses people, or take their place. Those are one of the worst ones. They are called the Untitled. I think... I am sure the Joker is one of them. Not much reliable information on him, but what there is, fits. He started out as a regular criminal. The OG Red Hood, wore it before the guy in the red helmet did. But then, he got dunked in a vat of chemicals that literally should have dissolved him, so not even bones remained. Instead, he got changed, looking barely human, and got right back to his crimes. Only if before he wanted only money and recognition, now, his goal was to get his rocks off to people’s suffering. The more pain, physically and mentally, he caused, the better it was, for him. And, GCPD couldn’t ID him now, his DNA results always ended up corrupted, like the material changed before it could be analyzed. And his appearance changed all the time, too. Only the signature details stayed. The pale skin, the green hair, the scars near his mouth, like the Irish smile, you know? But then again, when he wanted to, he could disguise himself so not even police commissioner would recognize him. Or Bat. And that’s what the Untitled do the best, change their shape.”

“Okay,” Harry said carefully. “But what if you are wrong? What if he just... Some sick, twisted, but totally human bastard?”

The girl fell silent. Then she said.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“Yeah?”

“There are rules to that sort of thing. I have a… a weapon of sorts. It’s a sword, kind of, but it isn’t real.”

“Yeah?”

You could say Harry knew something about un-real swords. Just a thing or two. Michael, of course, knew much, much more, being a wielder of such sword and all. Maybe Harry should introduce them.

“I know, I know,” she sighed, misinterpreting his words, and hid her face in her hands. “I cringe just listening to myself. But it’s real. Even if it’s not. It’s my soul manifesting as a blade. It’s totally badass, by the way.”

Okay, maybe she wasn’t totally wrong about his reaction, because now it seemed really like... Not something that could exist, to put it politely. And, of course, she would refuse to demonstrate for some reason.

“I would show you, but it’s not exactly something to toy with. I literally burn through my soul when I manifest it. So I would rather... Not do that without a dire need.”

“Like to kill someone,” Harry shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

“But that’s the thing! I won’t be able to kill a human with it. It works only on those that don’t belong here. So, if I attack Joker with it and then my blade goes straight through, not harming him, no harm done, right?”

Her voice seemed to beg Harry to agree, and he nodded automatically.

“Right,” he said. “But... If you attacked him and nothing happened, but he attacked you right back, would he be able to harm you?”

She didn’t reply.

Harry sighed and pointed out.

“Not to mention, you would fail to fulfill a bargain with the bird. And the last time you broke your agreement, you lost your name. Who knows what it would take next?”

"I am sure it will work, though," she replied sullenly. "And it's not like I have anything else I could trade."

Harry didn't have a good answer to that.

"Let's just. Let's just find it first. And then we can ask."


	2. Chapter 2

A man was waiting for Johnny in the office.

He didn't falter; he noticed Nathan falling back to the security desk outside while Ms. Gard made sure to place herself between Johnny and the stranger. But Johnny went straight to his desk, not allowing the man to think he managed to surprise him. Appearances matter very much in the business - otherwise, he wouldn't wear those Italian-cut three-pieces.

Well, maybe he would; they kind of grew on him by now.

"I assume you have a really good reason to break into my office in the middle of the day," Johnny said, seating himself, "or a really good armor in addition to the helmet."

He looked over the corners of the room. Security cameras were visibly undamaged, but the light display wasn't working anymore.

The meeting he was at lunch was in the conference room one floor down. It took forty minutes at the most, including the walk to and from the elevator. Quick work, this was, considering he not only sneaked out but also disabled the surveillance. 

Then again, Johnny recognized the man, or who he appeared to be. Eight severed heads in a duffle bag in one evening? That sent a powerful message even outside of a city in happened in. Even Harry agreed. Though, he was more concerned about eight being used in magical rituals frequently, and not a good kind. " _ Is that a beginning of the trend? _ " he complained. " _ We had drug dealers mixed up with black magic, now, the freaking New Jersey does, too. _ " Johnny didn't know why he was so surprised: it was  _ New Jersey _ .

"Sorry for not calling ahead," the man said in a totally unapologetic voice. "But I am kinda on a timetable. So let's skip the chit-chat, vague threats, and alfa male posturing."

As he was saying that, the door opened again. Johnny shook his head slightly, and Nathan waved the reinforcements to stand down outside but ready and alert. Himself, he crossed the office and shoved a piece of paper at the desk before assuming his position behind Johnny's right shoulder. " _ Network down only here. No sign on video. Possible point of entry window. _ " Johnny looked back at the man sitting before them, and not at the half-open window.

"By all means," Johnny waved a hand. "I am on a tight schedule as well, which I hate to disrupt with an unscheduled meeting."

"About two days ago," the man said. "I took down Roman Sionis. I know Gotham isn't big like Chicago but you know this name. He's the one who took out your business partners, two years ago. He lost you quite some money you invested in a partnership with them, not to mention the expected profit."

"Surely you don't expect me to thank you."

"Not for this, no. But, I didn't just take out Black Mask and his whole gang. I took over the business. Optimized it somewhat. As much as it could be. No shootings allowed anymore, attracts unwanted attention, increases the attrition rate, property damage. Got rid of the middle link in the sex work industry. Now, most of the people involved are self-employed and use a hotel chain under my control to conduct business. This keeps the interaction more secure and makes it somewhat cheaper, too. Which, increases customer satisfaction, and it's a nice additional revenue strim, not to mention that it's legal. After all, it's only renting the rooms. There's nothing illegal about that, or about providing security for your property."

Johnny squinted.

"Is there a PowerPoint presentation on a flash drive somewhere, with graphs predicting the business growth in the next three years? A printed resume?" he asked while the man audibly drew breath to power through whatever he wanted to say next. "Because your little speech makes me think you're pitching me your services, but honestly, so far I didn't hear anything innovative enough for that. Everything you accomplished, I did ten years ago and on a larger scale."

"Only Chicago and your state, though," the man parred. "You are trying to expand those last few years. But you never seem to commit and just take over the cities you're interested in yourself. I assume it's because Chicago has your hand full with one disturbance after another. Whatever your reasons, though, it would be easier if you had a stronghold somewhere outside of your reach. Gotham is one ferry ride from Metropolis. Has an International port as well as the airport. Has the biggest customer base for drugs in the whole States, and the laxes firearms laws. And, for the first time in twenty years, it has zero super-criminals roaming the streets, meaning, zero competition."

"Except for you."

"I was thinking about retirement, actually. But I can't just leave everything at the mercy of fate, can I? Fate is chaotic, actually, and mercy isn't really in her vocabulary. So I started thinking. Who do I know of, who would be both interested in this neat little piece of a shit pie called Gotham, would be able to keep it all together without me holding their hand, and actually willing to uphold three main rules? No firearms, no pimps, and no business with children. Your name was the only one I could recall."

"You assume a lot out of me."

"Am I really? You said it yourself, most of the things I had done in those two years, you have done bigger and better and much, much earlier."

"Let me repeat those terms, under the understanding that I am not agreeing to it, just trying to clarify what are you offering," Johnny said.

The man opposite him inclined his head. After saying his piece, he seemed to be a person of few words.

"You gathered under your boot all drug-running outfits as well as freelancers in Gotham. You completely banned firearms on the streets," Nathan snorted at that, behind Johnny's shoulder, and he couldn't even begrudge him that. As far as Johnny heard, and he was keeping himself plenty informed, the main reinforcement for this particular rule was explosions. "And you look over sex workers, though they don't pay you a cut, and you got rid of pimps as well. This is a neat little empire you got, just under two years, Mister..."

"Hood," the man reminded, gesturing at his head. Where indeed was a shiny red helmet.

"I know," Johnny said calmly. "I was just wondering if there was something better I could call you. I am not used to having dealings with men whose names I don't know, or even how they look like."

"You tell me yours, I will tell you mine."

"Really?" Johnny said, mildly curious.

"I feel pretty safe offering, have a feeling you're not so dumb to take me up on it. Lots of things you can do, having a man's name."

"Had some of those things happened to you, I wonder."

The man shifted in his chair. Gard, Johnny noticed out of the corner of his eye, seemed to stand a little straighter.

"Could be."

"Is that why the helmet?"

"Could be."

"Hm. Forgive me for prying, then. Back to the matters at hand. Why would you wish to trade everything you got, then? Police got too close?"

"You didn't just say that. Gotham PD is a joke, and their conviction rates versus corruption rate are the punchline."

"And local... Vigilante element?"

"Even worse. There's a gang of them, and any of them, especially the man in charge, will try to push their noses up your business. But they don't kill, or even let you be killed by your competition or accident or even an act of God if they can help it. If you have the manpower, and you have resources, you don't even have to make your people fight them. They busted one of your labs? Everyone raises hands in the air and comes quietly, and when they are released the next day because someone in the precinct filed the intake paperwork wrong or didn't Mirandise them or something. Evidence goes missing from the storage, and you're back in business, just at a different location."

"Quite a business plan you have. So, why?"

The man took his time, playing with the ring on his hand instead of answering right away.

"I am not really cut out for this life," he ended up saying. "I was doing a favor for... a friend of the family. Then, I decided to use it for my own gain, and... It didn't work. Backfired. And the thing I want... It's a small thing for you. But it is an impossible task for me. Maybe, if I wasn't doing it for myself, I would have done it. When I try to do something for myself, it never works out."

"Ah," Johnny said. It felt familiar. "Self-sabotage. I have a friend of my own that is the same way. Ask him to move heaven and earth for you, he would do it in a heartbeat. For himself, he can barely fight a wet paper."

Nathan made a noise again. Well, he always thought that Johnny had a somewhat idealized version of Harry Dresden.  _ That's because you were never locked into a Soulgaze with him _ , Johnny would reply. Never seen into the depths of his soul.  _ Yeah _ , Nathan would snort again,  _ I am not in love with him either _ .

"Kind of," the Hood said. "Just, it is what it is. I want, no, I  _ need  _ the Joker dead. And I can't do it myself. And I willing to offer you what you want..."

"But what you personally don't value," Johnny said. " Doesn't seem particularly fair."

"I do value it," Hood argued. "Or, better say, I care. About my city, and about my people. That's why I came to you, and not to any of the crime families or assassins or just overpowered psychos from back home. You know why? We kind of the same."

Johnny looked him over. The leather jacket, the combat boots, and barely flattering cargo pants, and yes, the helmet was not to be forgotten either. Couldn't be further from what Johnny looked like. Except for when he was visiting Amanda.

Not to mention, if  _ Johnny  _ wanted someone dead, they would be.

But the Hood continued.

"You cleaned up your city. You made it so no one would sell to children, or  _ buy _ children either. You try to keep the violence to a minimum."

"Bad for business."

"Bad, period. You keep your people safe, even if it seems like you're only doing it so you could leech from them. But I know what you're doing. Because I tried to do the same."

"Couldn't you just hire someone?" Johnny pressed. "I can give you a few referrals. Discreet, professional. You surely have money."

"Not really. I don't really keep anything more than what is needed to run the operation. But it's not the point either. I just... Don't want to do it forever. Someone has to, I know. But... Is it bad that I don't want it to be me?"

Was it? Sometimes, Johnny got tired of it himself. Yes, it was wearying, when there wasn't someone you could offer this burden. So, Johnny put a pin on a dream of running away with Harry somewhere warm and with a beach. Life went on. 

But he was doing this for, how long? Was it ten, twelve years now? Terrible twos, Johnny remembered that time. When everything was under control and there wasn't anyone to fight anymore (yet), it was the first time he had the space to stop and breathe and have an identity crisis. Just who he had become, and has to continue to be?  _ Was _ he really ready to give up on being anything else? Yes. Johnny  _ was _ .

_ Hood _ , being, Johnny suspected, much younger than himself,  _ was not _ .

And Johnny couldn't really fault him for that.

"Is there anything else you think I would benefit from knowing before I make a decision one way or another?" He asked, choosing the phrasing with care.

No matter how sympathetic the Hood was, he did ambush Johnny, and few people can do that, especially if he had Ms. Gard with him. That alone warned Johnny that there was something special about the guest. And you needed to be treated carefully with anything special, in the world they were living. Even if it wasn't, as far as anyone present in the room could say, anything malicious.

"Yes," the man said after a deliberation. "The Joker isn't human."

"Sorry?"

"I know you know what I mean," Hood said. "I heard about your vampire troubles, and I am pretty sure you had at least one haunting, being in your line of work. You may have even known of fairies."

"You could say that," it was his turn to say.

"Yeah, well, forget what you know. He doesn't disappear with the dawn and isn't afraid of holy symbols, iron won't work on him for long and fire isn't reliable. Chopping him to pieces will do squat."

"So how do you propose I do the deed?"

"You have people at your disposal," Hood nodded at Gard. "I'm sure you would think of something."

"Interesting. And if a friend asked you to get rid of him, you said you would have been able to?"

Hood shrugged.

"So, if I, say, offered a counter deal. You would take the Joker down for me, and out of my gratitude, I would take Gotham underbelly from your hands. Would it work?"

After a short deliberation, Hood answered, sounding almost surprised.

"Maybe. Is that something you are willing to do, then?"

This was, all things considered, a much more attractive offer. Now, Hood himself would be doing the risky task of killing the unlikable foe, and if he failed, Johnny still would have kept the city, right? 

He needed to consult with his resident expert on all things fae.

His phone rang the same second. He excused himself and answered.

"Marcone," he heard Harry's voice in the receiver.

"Excellent timing," he smiled in response.

"Why, what do you need?" He asked, suspicious as usual. But then he jumped right into what  _ he  _ needed. "Never mind that. I am here with someone, and I need access to the building. Roof especially, it's the first place I want to look at. But your goons at reception won't allow us both."

"I thought you promised Charity to never bring her daughter into the sin's den."

"Ha, it's not Molly, actually. I am here with a client. We are looking for... Short version? Her pet genie, or something close enough. Slightly longer version, if you or any of your people see or hear a talking bird or any other thing that shouldn't be talking, offering deals too good to refuse, please do. Refuse, that is."

Excellent timing indeed. He looked over his shoulder to where Hood was still sitting.

"Why the roof," he said, almost absent-mindedly.

"Well, where do you expect a bird to hide, in your office?"

"Yes, you better come up here," he said. "There's someone I would like you to meet."

He motioned to Nathan to make sure both Harry and his companion were allowed in as swiftly as possible before returning to his seat at the table.

"It was my associate," he explained, watching Hood's reaction. "He is a wizard. While Miss Gard here is a huge help to me both security-wise and as a source of information, the deal you propose is more his expertise. If you need anything destroyed with magic, he is your first call. Honestly, I will even turn my cell phone down. Sometimes, destruction happens around him without meaning to. Anything electronic just stops working in his vicinity."

He had expected something, anything out of the Hood. At least an aborted gesture toward his helmet. That thing seemed pretty high-tech at least.

But Hood only tapped on the desk surface with his finger, the one that had a ring on it. Which, too, was a tell of sorts.

"I thought you decided to go with the counter offer."

"I want his opinion on both options before I commit to anything. If I commit. In any case, wouldn't it be useful for you to discuss that as well? Or do you already have a method in mind? Or does it, perhaps, work differently, for you?"

"What, you mean, do people tell me their deepest wish and I grant it to them by  _ magic _ ?" The Hood snorted, leaving all his pretenses. "A marid I am  _ not _ . But I have good hearing aids."

He gestured at his helmet.

"So you heard my entire conversation?" At Hood's nod, Johnny inclined his head. "Yet, you don't seem to do anything about it."

"What did you expect? Fight you, try to escape? What are there to be afraid of?"

"You can't be killed? Or detained?"

Hood considered it for all of half a second.

"Point. But  _ do  _ they want to kill me or detain me?"

"I don't know," Johnny replied honestly.

"Well, would you like them to?"

"If it's warranted, sure. I still can take over Gotham, without you there, can't I?"

"I guess." Hood stood up. "Alright, you convinced me."

It happened so fast.

Hood raised his hands up. Gard took her weapon out. Johnny got his hand on the holster. The door started to open.

"No, don't let him fly away!" Johnny heard a girl's voice.

Too late. The red helmet felt down to the floor, spinning, and a small red-breasted bird flew into the open window.

"You wanted him to get away," accused him Harry later, when they both were getting ready to sleep. "I mean, how hard could it be, to just talk to him so he wouldn't suspect anything is amiss?"

Johnny sighed. He hated when Harry dragged the job home.

"Honestly, Harry, how was I to predict that he is a shape-shifter?"

"He isn't. How would it even work? A bird weighs so much less than an adult human. No, he's something else entirely. Something new, or something forgotten."

"Fascinating," Johnny said dryly.

Harry got under the covers, smiling as if Johnny said a joke or a  _ pun _ . For some reason, Harry was quite fond of them.

"Yeah, it is."

"Is it? Should I be worried?"

Harry turned on his side and sneaked his arms around Johnny.

"It's me who should be worried. You were this close to making a deal with the name-snatcher."

"For the last time," he rolled his eyes. "There was exactly nothing about names in the terms. And you confirmed so yourself, if we struck the second variation of the deal, where all the risk fell on the Red Hood, even if the deal fell through from his side, likely I wouldn't have lost anything."

" _ Red Hood _ !" Harry jumped. "Of course. That's the old name of this Joker guy, right? Hood took it away. This means, whatever deal those two had, it wasn't fully fulfilled by the Joker."

And then he rubbed his eyes and lied down again.

"No," he murmured. "It wasn't Joker's real name. Just a nickname. Anyone could use it. The girl, she has a nickname too, Spoiler. She didn't have any trouble telling me it."

"What kind of name it is,  _ Spoiler _ ."

"What? She  _ spoiled  _ her father's crimes, who called himself the Cluemaster! Get it?"

Johnny sighed at him.

"I do. Still, I think it's..." Johnny tried to be diplomatic. "Not a very long-lived name.  _ If  _ she was successful, and took her father down, whose clues she was there to spoil?"

Harry scoffed.

"Like your Hood is any better. At least, hers was original."

He turned away from Johnny and blew the candle on his side of the bed. Johnny was left gaping.  _ His  _ Hood? It wasn't Johnny who called the man ' _ fascinating _ ', thank you very much!

Even if the man  _ was _ .

"Anyway," he said pointedly to his partner's back. "What is the point of using Joker's old pseudonym? He doesn't hold Joker in any esteem. Would you have taken it in his place, if any other option was available?"

"There are literally tons of names available," Harry grunted. "Joe, Jack, Jimmy, Janet, Jay, anything you can think of... I think he looks kind of like James."

Johnny blew his candle in irritation. Sometimes, there was no talking to Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, Jason is not very experienced in sales. It's hard to negotiate with people when it's not life or death (especially if it's not him who holds the AK-47, figuratively or literally)

**Author's Note:**

> So, yay? Nay? 
> 
> Drop a comment, send me a message/ask on [tumblr](https://redjaybathood.tumblr.com/), or join our [STAY](https://discord.gg/YJjkXE) discord server!


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